


The Course of True Love (Never Did Run Smooth)

by truth_universally_acknowledged



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: American Revolution, Black Petticoat Society, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-15 15:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4612056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truth_universally_acknowledged/pseuds/truth_universally_acknowledged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of TURN: Washington's Spies fluff and smut based on requests that people have sent me, or when I have drabbles that don't fit into my stories. Expect to see lots of Anna/Hewlett, Peggy/Andre, and possibly even some reader inserts. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Stars Doth Shine

Anna’s breath came out in short puffs in the cool November air.  It seemed as if Setauket grew chillier by the day, but a certain Major’s feelings for her did not. She laughed inwardly at her own little joke.

Major Hewlett had invited her to go stargazing with him. After he’d showed her the telescope and explained to her how it worked, she’d expressed curiosity and he’d invited her to make an evening of it.

To be honest, she felt a little nervous. She knew these feelings were silly—she was a grown woman, after all—not some silly little school girl just beginning to court. But she wasn’t sure what to expect, and she certainly wasn’t sure of the depth of Hewlett’s feelings for her. Perhaps she’d find out tonight.

As she neared Whitehall, she saw the Major tinkering with the telescope. He’d abandoned his red uniform, and instead donned more civilian clothes. In fact, he looked rather like one of those Renaissance paintings of astronomers. Anna quickly looked down at her own attire, slightly ashamed she didn’t wear something better. It wasn’t like she’d had time—she’d come straight from the tavern. She probably smelled of ale and smoke and other unpleasant tavern things, and desperately hoped Hewlett wouldn’t take notice. Anna quickly smoothed her hair and pinched her cheeks, then strode confidently to the platform where Hewlett was all set up.

She was surprised to see a couple astronomy books, a sketchbook, quills, ink, and even a decanter of wine on a small table nearby. It looked as if he’d been studying out here for a while. He looked through his telescope, then scribbled something in the sketchbook nearby. A happy little smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and she was pleased to see him so at ease.

“Major Hewlett,” she said softly, so as not to disturb him. He continued scribbling in his notebook, utterly oblivious to her presence. “Edmund,” she said with a bit more urgency. The Major turned around in surprise, knocking over the inkwell and dropping his quill. He cursed at his own clumsiness, apologizing profusely as they knelt down to collect the scattered items.

“Major, I must apologize for my tardiness,” she began, only to be gently hushed.

“Anna, don’t apologize. You are a busy woman, as it is.”

A small bit of color bloomed in her cheeks. Even though she told herself she wasn’t going to act like some shy young girl, she couldn’t help but feel a little bit giddy. Major Hewlett was such a gentleman, after all.

“Well, at least let me apologize for startling you so.”

He waved his hand dismissively, as if to tell her she needn’t worry.

“On the contrary, it is I must apologize to you. I’m so sorry I didn’t notice you right away when it was I who invited you here in the first place. I get caught up in my work rather quickly, you see…” he said, gesturing to the books and papers spread out on the table.

A small smile turned up the corners of her mouth. She hated to think of a soldier as being “adorable,” but the word fit Hewlett perfectly. At times like this, it was often easy to forget that he was a soldier. He really was such a gentle and refined person, so much better than the other soldiers and the rangers that frequented the tavern.

“I’d like to cease these apologies and get caught up in your work with you, if that’s alright,” she said more flirtatiously.

He nodded and took her gently by the arm, guiding her to the edge of front edge of the little platform.

“Look up at the sky, Anna. Do you know your constellations?” he asked.

“I confess, I know quite little about stars, Edmund.”

“That’s quite alright! It gives me the opportunity to teach you more about the things I love,” he countered, looking eagerly at her. She felt as if those last few words held a double meaning as he gazed into her eyes, but she decided not to dwell on it.

He pointed up at the sky, directing her gaze there.  “Right there is the Big Dipper. Across from that, at an angle, is Polaris, more commonly known as the North Star.”

“I do know that one. It is a point of reference for navigation, isn’t it?”

“That it is! It was discovered by Claudius Ptolemy in the year of our Lord 169.”

“My goodness, what a long time ago! I wonder how he was able to make sense of it without the aid of the technology we have today.”

The Major chuckled lightly.

“It is a wonder, isn’t it? Now, what’s very interesting is Polaris wasn’t used for navigation until the fifth century.”

Anna raised a curious eyebrow, inviting him to further explain.

“Modern science is quite intriguing. Obviously we all know by now that our world is not flat, but round. In fact, the earth is tilted on an axis, if you will, and the earth rotates around it. The position of Polaris is constant and does not change. To us, the stationery beings on earth, it may seem as if it does, but that is only because the earth moving. That is why the stars seem to move about the sky.”

Anna peered curiously at the bright star again. The little white dot stood out against the blackness of the night sky, and she marveled to think that everyone on earth could look at the very same star. Famous people from times long ago had looked upon this very same star, and suddenly, Anna felt very small. She didn’t like this odd feeling of vulnerability, and engaged the expert astronomer with more questions.

“Perhaps this is a silly question, but why is it called the North Star?”

“Anna, there is no such thing as a silly question. Don’t ever feel ashamed to ask me anything.”

His expression was sincere, and his hazel eyes revealed a warmth and honesty that Anna hadn’t really seen before. Of course, she knew him to be a man of honor, but in this close proximity, she was really able to see it in his eyes. For a moment, she wondered if his eyes looked so warm and honest all the time. She made a mental note to look next time she saw him.

“But, as far as stars go, Polaris is also called the ‘North Star’ because it directly faces the North Pole. That way it is constant, and we can rely on it for navigation.”

She felt herself smile once again.

“Ah. It does seem to be the brightest in the sky, as well.”

“Yes, very much so. In fact, the Macedonian historian Stobaeus wrote about the star and described it as being ‘always visible.’ That is when people began to pay attention to it and really reference it for navigation.”

“Edmund, you never cease to amaze me,” she said languidly, looking up at the star.

He looked at her in confusion.  Her words came seemingly out of nowhere, and he wasn’t exactly sure how to respond.

She looked back at him and noticed his bemused expression.

“I mean that you are a very brilliant man. You know so much about astronomy; it’s really very impressive.”

He denied her compliments, calling his interest in astronomy merely a hobby and nothing more.

What a modest man he was. She knew he wouldn’t accept her insistence, so she ceased her efforts, and he quickly changed the subject.

“Well, now that you know more about Polaris, come look at it through the telescope. It’ll give you new perspective; I’m sure of it.”

She followed his lead and stooped so that she could look through the fancy new telescope. The Major directed her gaze to the correct spot in the sky, and Anna gasped at seeing the star so closely. Modern technology was truly incredible.

The North Star was a bright white orb that far outshone the other small white dots in the sky. Seeing it so up close was breathtaking.

“Why, this is marvelous! I never knew just how much brighter…Polaris….was. Is, really.” She hesitated on pronouncing Polaris, as she didn’t want to say it wrong in front of the expert, but he reassured her.

“Yes, it is marvelous, isn’t it?” he said, smiling at her as she looked up from the telescope. Perhaps it was a trick of the moonlight, but his expression was far more amorous than usual. She knew she was also probably more flirtatious than usual, but it had been a while since someone had treated her with such care and generosity.

“What other scientific marvels can you tell me about, Edmund?”

The amorous look was gone from his face in an instant, replaced instead by one of almost childish delight. She grinned inwardly. It was quite obvious that he was passionate about astronomy, and was delighted to teach those willing to listen.

The rest of the night was spent in friendly conversation. He taught her everything he knew about the solar system, and Anna found it both endearing and educational. When they grew tired of being scholars, Edmund poured them some wine and they reminisced about the days of their past. He told her of his life in England, and how he’d come to join the army.

Anna delighted in hearing about the differences between American and English lives. Although a Patriot and advocate for liberty, she loved hearing Edmund describe the beautiful landscapes of England the intricacies of English culture. She knew there could be no future between them. Once this war was over, he’d go back to England and study astronomy, and she’d stay here. She’d be a tavern wench for the rest of her life. Unless the war drastically changed everything, her future was rather dismal. It did no good to dwell on such doleful thoughts, so she pushed them to the back of her mind.

The entire time, she’d been aware of the Major’s close proximity. He’d found any excuse to touch her or be near her, and unlike other men’s attentions, his were quite welcome. Abe or Simcoe would never think to do something like this. Perhaps Selah would have, in the past, but there was no telling now.

“Anna? Are you quite alright? You seem a little distant all of a sudden,” said the Major, pulling her out of her reverie.

“Oh, yes I’m fine. I was lost in thought I guess.”

“Anything I can help with?”

She shook her head, not wanting to bother him. Of course she trusted him and would tell him anything, but he had far too many responsibilities being in charge of Setauket. She didn’t want to burden him with her petty life issues.

“No, just tired, I suppose. Serving ale to drunken soldiers takes more energy than you’d expect.”

The major looked on her with sympathy.

“Perhaps I can convince Mr. Deyong to lighten your workload somehow.”

“Edmund, no. It’s all I’ve got. And showing favoritism with me won’t reflect well on you. Or me, for that matter.”

His smile was rueful as she spoke the truth. If he couldn’t convince the owner of the tavern to lighten her load, he’d at least find a way to make her work a bit cheerier.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he whispered, awkwardly yet tenderly patting her hand.

A few moments of silence passed between them as they gazed up at the night sky. Suddenly, a shooting star burst across the sky, much to their delight.

“Aren’t you supposed to make a wish when these things pass by?” she asked rather teasingly.

“I do believe it is tradition. What shall we wish for, then?”

“Well, if we say it out loud, it doesn’t come true, does it?”

“That doesn’t make much sense. I for one wish this war to be over,” he said decidedly. Anna concurred with him. She didn’t know what to wish for—she couldn’t possibly pick one thing. There were so many things about her life that she wanted to change, but she knew that simply wishing on a star wouldn’t change anything.

“It’s getting late. I have to work again tomorrow,” she said in a dejected tone, looking sadly up at the stars.

“Would you like me to escort you back to the tavern?”

“Oh, don’t trouble yourself. I don’t want to impose.”

“It wouldn’t be an imposition! I don’t mind at all, Anna.”

She eventually acquiesced, and he offered her his arm. The walk back to the tavern wasn’t so long, and he made excellent company.

When they reached the door of the building, she was almost sad for this night to end. The Major had been such a perfect gentleman, and perhaps if she’d made a wish on the shooting star, she would have wished for more nights like this.

“Well, thank you, Edmund. You are a scholar and a gentleman,” she said with a dazzling smile.

“Oh, well you’re very kind, Anna. Perhaps we can do this again later.” The look in his eyes was that of a puppy dog, and he looked rather hopeful.

“I would like that very much.”

“Good. I will see you later then, I suppose.”

“Of course. Goodnight, Major,” she said, bobbing a quick curtsy.

He took her hand and kissed it quickly before wishing her a goodnight. Without thinking, she leaned forward and placed a small, soft kiss on his cheek. The poor man looked stunned for a moment, but then a small blush spread across his face.

She snickered inwardly. What would have happened if she’d actually kissed him?

Maybe next time she'd find out.


	2. Like Sunshine After Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb and Frida run into trouble, and the consequences are rather dire.

Frida felt as if her legs were made of lead as she walked. Such a simple task seemed terribly difficult. It certainly didn’t help that the gash in her side seared with white hot pain at the slightest movement. The rain beat down mercilessly on them, stinging her skin. Her throat was dry, and she was sure that if she spoke, her voice would come out cracked. She knew she was slowing down their pace, but there was no way she could keep up, and especially not for much longer.

She heard Caleb’s merry voice a few feet away from her, but she didn’t really know what he was saying. She was trying desperately to focus on putting one foot in front of the other without much effort, and the rain was making it more difficult.

Finally, she decided the pain was unbearable, and it was useless to move on.

“Frida? Frida, are you listening?” asked Caleb as he turned around to look at her. The cheery expression on his face melted into one of worry as he caught sight of her ashen face.

“Sweetheart, you a’right?”

She shook her head slowly.

“Caleb…” she said wearily, an edge of pain creeping into her voice. She didn’t have the energy to yell. Her knees buckled under her, and in a flash, Caleb was at her side. He caught her before she hit the ground, and the last thing she saw before she passed out was a double vision of his worried face.  

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Caleb carried an unconscious Frida back to her home, worrying the entire time. This was all his fault. He should have been watching her, defending her somehow. He should have never taken her on a mission like this.

Her fair skin had turned an ashy color, and he was afraid she didn’t have much time left. Even her breathing had slowed down considerably. He was absolutely afraid for her life. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked at her soft features twisted into a grimace. She’d been in so much pain, and she hadn’t told him for fear of slowing him down. He should have known.

When he finally reached her house, he banged on the door with his boot, hoping it sounded urgent enough. He heard footsteps shuffling around, and some Norwegian curses being thrown around. At last, Björn opened the door.

His angry expression quickly turned into one of terror as he saw Frida limply hanging in Caleb’s arms, the both of them soaking wet from being caught in the storm.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice shaking.

“The short version? Deal went wrong an’ she got hurt. She’s lost too much blood already and doesn’t ‘ave a lot o’ time. Please, Björn. You’ve got ter help her.”

Björn took Frida from Caleb’s arms and rushed her into the small sitting/drawing room. Hilde’s eyes widened in fright and her face was pinched as she took in the sight of her son holding the limp body of her daughter in his arms. Little Sigrid wailed when she realized what was happening, and Hilde hushed her. They needed to be rational and a crying seven year old was not going to help.

“Is she…” Hilde asked, afraid of the answer.

Caleb shook his head.

“No. But she’s hurt bad and she needs a doctor.”

“Sigrid, go get the doctor. Tell him this is urgent,” ordered Björn as he laid Frida down on the small sofa.

“No, don’t,” said Hilde, kneeling down next to Frida and examining the wound. It didn’t look so bad now, but she knew when she removed some clothes, she would see more of the damage.

“All due respect Mrs. Rølvaag, if Frida doesn’t get a doctor, then…”

“I know what will happen, Caleb. But the doctor will ask questions that we can’t answer, and he’ll report you two. Then Frida will just rot in a jail cell without any medical attention whatsoever.”

Caleb hadn’t thought about that. He knew that smuggling was a dangerous business, but he’d never had to consider the repercussions on a family. They couldn’t rightly explain Frida’s injuries without looking suspicious. If the doctor reported her for smuggling, she’d be arrested and thrown into jail, where her wound would fester and she’d die a terrible death from infection. Then the whole town would be suspicious of the family, and they’d lose business. If they lost their shop, there was nothing left for them in the colonies.

 “Sigrid, get me some fresh rags and the rum. And stop your crying; it will not help your sister. Björn, get the medicine bag. Caleb, help me with her clothes.”

Everyone did exactly as asked as quickly as possible. Caleb admired the way Hilde was so calm in such a dire situation. She didn’t outwardly show panic, but he knew that she was weighing the options and doing the probability in her head.

The two of them carefully took off Frida’s coat, boots, and hat, hoping to make her more comfortable that way. When Sigrid arrived with the rags, she laid some of them under Frida’s side so as to avoid bloodying the sofa.

When the coat was finally off, she sucked in a breath at the sight of Frida’s wound. Her shirt clung to the flesh, as the blood had dried and plastered it onto the wound, making it difficult to separate skin from fabric.

It was a deep gash on her side, raw, red, and angry. It oozed a mysterious clear substance. At least that was good-it meant her body was fighting the infection. She hoped stiches would help, but she had Björn put the iron poker in the fire just in case. Quickly, she tore off the rest of Frida’s shirt. Thankfully her daughter had been sensible enough to bind her chest this time.

“How long has she been like this?” Hilde asked, cutting away at the fabric with the knife from the medicine bag.

“Two days. We ran in ter some privateers ‘cross the Sound. Gave us some trouble when we wouldn’t give up cargo, and got caught in a skirmish.”

Hilde felt her daughter’s forehead for signs of fever, and was dismayed when her skin was scorching to the touch. At that moment, Frida’s eyes groggily fluttered open.

“Frida? Frida, can you hear me?” Hilde asked, squeezing her daughter’s hand.

The girl looked confused, and her glassy eyes darted around the room.

“Where am I?” she whispered weakly. She sounded as if she would begin to cry at any given moment.

“You’re home, _kjære._ Everything will be alright.”

Caleb knew that wasn’t true, but Hilde was just trying to comfort her daughter.

“You’re hurt and I have to fix you. Now, it may be painful, but I need you to do your best not to scream, do you understand?”

Frida nodded, but the action hurt her head, and she winced.

“Where’s Caleb?”

“Right here, sweetheart,” he said, kneeling next to the sofa and brushing her arm gently.

Hilde let the two of them share a moment before she got down to business.

“Frida, I need you to drink some of this. It’ll help numb the pain. I’m going to try and stitch you up but if that doesn’t work, we’ll have to seal it shut some other way, alright?”

Her daughter reluctantly agreed, and Caleb tilted her head to help her drink the rum. When that was done, Hilde instructed Caleb to hold Frida’s hand while she cleaned out the gash, as she expected it would hurt like hell.

Frida didn’t scream, but she whimpered and grimaced. A jolt of pity struck at Caleb’s heart, but that pity quickly turned to shame. She wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for him.

The stitching didn’t work as Hilde had expected, so she warned Frida she’d have to close the wound by other means. Her daughter drank more of the rum while Björn fetched the poker from the fire.

Hilde took a little leather strip out of the medicine bag, and told Frida to bite down while she applied the heat. Caleb held her down while Björn pinched the wound closed. A muffled cry escaped her at that sensation, but it wasn’t nearly as shrill as the scream that she gave next. Her brother closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, trying not to cry at the sound. He hated to see his sister in such pain.

Finally, when the deed was done, Frida’s head sank back on the pillow, and her eyes closed.

“Did  you kill her?” Björn asked, horrified, as Hilde put the poker back in the fire.

“No. She’s just unconscious again. This was a difficult procedure, _min sønn._ Now go fetch me some herbs-we need to make a pumice for this.”

After Hilde had listed the ingredients for the pumice, she dipped a rag in the water and dabbed at Frida’s forehead with it.

“Is there anythin’ else I can do, Mrs. Rølvaag?” Caleb asked timorously.

“Fetch me a blanket out of that chest,” she said wearily, motioning to the trunk at the end of the sitting room.

Caleb did as asked, and Hilde smiled when he handed her the blanket.

When Björn returned with the proper equipment for the pumice, Hilde set to work grinding the herbs and spreading the mixture over Frida’s nasty wound. After wrapping it in rags, she instructed Caleb to cover her with the blanket.

“What now?” her son asked, on the verge of tears.

“We pray,” his mother replied simply, again dabbing at Frida’s forehead. The thunder rolled outside, as if to mock their prayers.

Caleb hadn’t prayed in a long time, but he was willing to do anything to save her now.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Frida opened her eyes slowly, adjusting to the light. The pounding in her head throbbed something fierce, and she winced inwardly, wishing the pain would go away.

She tried to sit up and take in her surroundings, but a searing pain shot at her side, preventing her from doing so. Shifting her head slightly, she saw Caleb standing at the window with his back to her. He seemed to be muttering something, and she wondered if he’d gone crazy after the incident. When she heard him whisper “amen,” her wonderings were confirmed. She smirked, licking her lips and clearing her throat.

“Caleb Brewster, were you just praying?”

He looked back her, dark eyes wide in shock.

“Frida? You…you’re awake?”

“I hope so. If I am dead and this is heaven, it is underwhelming.”

He laughed out of relief, rushing to her side.

“I was so afraid I’d gotten ya killed,” he said, holding her hand and brushing her hair out of her face.

“So I am…not dead?” she asked wryly, a small smile turning up at the corners of her mouth.

“No, yer alive, and I couldn’t be happier.”

With that, he lifted her chin with his hand and kissed her lips delicately, as if he were afraid he’d injure her. When he broke away, she put on a mock frown.

“What? Did I hurt ya again?” he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She snickered.

“I know you can do better than that,” she said teasingly.

A grin spread across his merry face.

“Saucy as ever, I see.”

He leaned down and kissed her again with more passion. She kissed him back hungrily, as if this were the last kiss she’d ever experience.

Caleb wanted to remark something clever at her eagerness, but he decided he’d tease her about it later when her injury was more healed.

“How’re ya feeling?” he asked, pulling up a chair and sitting next to her, holding her hand.

She winced again as she shifted to sit up.

“Everything hurts, Caleb. What happened?”

His eyes were full of tenderness as he related the accident to her. She listened with grave silence as he described her wound, and how they’d had to patch it up. Apparently such action had rendered her unconscious for three days, and Björn feared they’d killed her.

“You haven’t left this whole time?” she asked, gently brushing her thumb back and forth across his knuckles.

“I wanted to make sure you were alright,” he murmured sheepishly. She smiled, and lifted his hand to her lips, sweetly kissing his fingers.

She’d never had anyone care for her so, and she counted herself lucky that she had someone such as Caleb. True love was hard to find, and the two of them, the most unlikely people in the world, had found it.

**Author's Note:**

> I will take requests from anyone who wishes to see more TURN fanfiction. Visit my tumblr at most--ardentlyy.tumblr.com to see the guidelines. All I ask is that people send me hetero pairings due to my *ahem* lack of experience in writing otherwise. But other than that, send me what you wish and I'll do my best!


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